Cold and dark

Here we are in beautiful East Boothbay, Maine where the son is pretty much below the trees by 3:30, and it’s not even December yet. The dogs refuse to believe their suppertime is after dark (at 5pm) because as Florida dogs, they don’t know about sunsets before about 6. The scenery is really great, and we’re down to the hardcore full-timers since most of the seasonal people have gone away. Sources vary, but it looks like we have about 2,500 year round residents and as many as 30,000 in summer. I’ve walked into more than a few restaurants in the last month and realized I knew everyone there. Kind of cool, and kind of weird.

It’s been really cold as well, and it’s odd to see the 500 feet of so of ice at the end of the Little River. The dogs tend to jump over frozen puddles, which is funny and Sophie likes to break through the ice and pick up pieces of it. Better than rocks.

I had to visit Harvey for the monthly running of the engine and generator. Waves of nostalgia washed over me, and I realized we’d had this rig for a year and a few days. What a monstrous marvel that coach is. Next year, we’re planning another trip to Mexico and I can hardly wait.

Yesterday, in Damariscotta, we stopped by in time to catch Santa Claus riding into town in a horse drawn wagon. He was heralded by (I kid you not) the Reny’s Rockettes. Just another day in small town Maine. The way life should be.